


brand new sounds in my mind

by coramalias



Series: let obi-wan be happy (╯◕_◕)╯ [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, because i'm fucking TIRED of y'all and your angst okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coramalias/pseuds/coramalias
Summary: Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.There were few people he was close to, and fewer still outside of the Order. He cared for many of his fellow Jedi and clones, of course, but enough to be in love? And more so, enough to be in love and not know? Even those friends he usually only interacted with when discussing war strategy or mission parameters. He doubted that even someone as dedicated to the war effort as he could fall in love over galactic maps of the front





	brand new sounds in my mind

**Author's Note:**

> obi-wan deserves happiness 2k17

The first petal fell unsuspectingly.

In the midst of a battlefield, clones surrounding him in an attempt to prevent the looming droid army from overcoming their company, one petal drifting to the dirt wasn’t important enough to be noticed. Obi-Wan’s confusion about a petal falling from his lips as the breath was knocked out of him by an attacking battle droid was short lived. There were more important things to concern himself with.

It was only much later, hard-pressed battle won and finally settling in to sleep, that the memory made its way to the forefront of his mind. An itch started to gather in his chest and he sat up straight in his cot, alarmed. Another cough rattled its way from his chest and this time, in the relative seclusion of his quarters, it was noticed. A petal once again fell from his lips and landed on the bedsheet.

It was a delicate petal, so small as Obi-Wan examined it in the palm of his hand. It was a rich golden color. He would have considered it beautiful, if not for its origin.

Hanahaki, the medical droid informed him after his examination. An illness born from one-sided love.

Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure which part of that phrase alarmed him more, that he had apparently fallen in love without realizing or that the realization only came with certain rejection. To add insult to injury, he didn’t even know who the object of his affections was. He briefly considered Satine, but that didn’t make any sense. It had been years since he last saw her, and his feelings for her had been most intense during his padawan years. If it was her, this disease should have occurred long ago.

There were few people he was close to, and fewer still outside of the Order. He cared for many of his fellow Jedi and clones, of course, but enough to be in love? And more so, enough to be in love and not know? Even those friends he usually only interacted with when discussing war strategy or mission parameters. He doubted that even someone as dedicated to the war effort as he could fall in love over galactic maps of the front.

He sat listlessly on the examination bed as the medical droid rolled away from him, content to carry on with its rounds and leave Obi-Wan to his thoughts. He considered his friends in the senate. He and Bail Organa were close, and Obi-Wan could admit that he was an attractive man, but his feelings for him were firmly rooted in friendship. There was Padmé, too. Although, he thought with a spark of wry amusement, he doubted Anakin would appreciate if it was her, considering how close the two seemed to be.

Anakin. Obi-Wan breathed in sharply in surprise. _Anakin._

 _Oh, Stars, no,_ Obi-Wan thought, feeling a sharp panic rushing through him.

He was never unaware of the fact that he loved Anakin. The two were a team on the frontlines, _the_ team, and where one went the other would most certainly follow. He knew he loved Anakin, although he’d never outright said so to the other man. No, what sent cool fear-laced panic through his veins was the realization that he not only loved him, but was _in_ love with him. Anakin, who like him was bound by the Code. He often pushed the boundaries of the Code, but being a Jedi was his dream. He would never endanger that dream by challenging the Code openly. And even if he did, well… Obi-Wan knew who it would be for.

He swallowed, a weight beginning to press against his chest. He wouldn’t, couldn’t ever begrudge Padmé finding happiness. He knew Anakin better than most. He shone brilliantly in the force, his power and compassion overwhelming in its intensity. And when all that warmth was turned to one individual, it was overwhelming. After so many years spent together, Obi-Wan experienced Anakin’s full attention on several occasions. Granted, most of those occasions were after he had landed himself in the healers after a particularly rough mission. Regardless, the other man’s concerned hovering had always given Obi-Wan an overwhelming sense of peace, if only for the simple fact that he cared.

Padmé was intelligent, beautiful, kind, and passionate. She was a remarkable person and Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to wish her to be without Anakin. They deserved each other, they deserved happiness.

He noticed his hands were shaking. He placed them firmly together, trying to get them to stop.

He should allow the surgery. His attachment was so far out of control that it was actively destroying him. If his condition was allowed to continue, the petals would eventually suffocate him.

But, if the growing flowers were removed, so would be his attachment. He struggled to imagine never again feeling the familiarity of the other man in the force, or the soothing peace that such familiarity brought. He was a Jedi Council member. He knew what his choice should be.

And yet…

Wiping the memory of their encounter from the medical droid was not difficult. He didn’t have Anakin’s skill with machinery, but he did pick up certain things over the years they spent together. And if he wanted to both remain a Jedi and with Anakin in his final days, no one could know about his condition.

He coughing resumed as he made his way back to his quarters, a handful of petals and his heart in his throat in both senses of the phrase.

Life carried on.

At first, swallowing the petals while in public was easy enough. His conversational skills were enough that he could hold back his ailment without the other person noticing. Later, usually in his quarters in the temple, he would be forced to cough them out. If it was a particularly busy day, he would end up covered in yellow petals. He felt uncomfortable throwing them away, but his situation needed to be handled discretely, and he couldn’t afford to be questioned about piles of flower petals in his room.

It was both better and worse when he spent time with Anakin.

He had always been an important part of Obi-Wan’s life, and his recent revelation only solidified that fact even further. For two people who had so many misunderstandings and emotional friction between them, in the force they were two halves of the same whole. They sparred, ate together, meditated (only as a last resort for Anakin), and simply lived together. Obi-Wan enjoyed these moments, even when Anakin’s frustration with the war and the council surged into an argument. He could never regret even the most vicious of fights with his partner, not when each moment he spent alongside Anakin’s presence made him feel alive.

As with all things, their time in the temple soon passed. They returned to the front.

He struggled to maintain his secrecy. The coughing fits grew worse. In battle, at least, no one paid any attention to a few scattered flower petals over the carnage. Months passed and his condition worsened. He knew that his men had started to notice his affliction. Kix had been giving him an increasingly severe side-eye during missions, and he knew it was only a matter of time until the other man confronted him. They were concerned, but he was certain they did not know exactly _what_ was wrong with their general.

If he had his way, they never would.

Avoiding the inevitable conversation with his medic eventually caught up with him, although not in the way he expected. It was eleven months after his diagnosis when he returned to his temple quarters for a few days leave only to find Anakin waiting for him.

“You’re back late,” he commented casually, as if he wasn’t sitting on the edge of the other man’s bed uninvited.

“Forgive me, Anakin, but I didn’t exactly expect you.”

“Kix sent me,” he stood from Obi-Wan’s bed and made his way over to the other man slowly, as if he expected him to bolt.

“He’s worried. We’re both worried. He said you haven’t been to any check-in appointments.”

Obi-Wan winced. He knew that would come back to bite him. He could have given the medic a simple force suggestion to forget the infection blossoming in his lungs, but he would never use that power on his own men. Instead, he avoided.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reassure, but instead was cut off with a fit of coughing. He doubled over, the weight of suppressing the petals all day finally taking its toll on his control. Anakin rushed to him, hands fluttering around him uncertainly until he decided on rubbing soothing circles on his back.

He couldn’t help the petals that escaped him, gliding gently to the floor around them.

He felt Anakin’s gasp more than he heard it, as close as he was. Without stopping the circles, he guided Obi-Wan so they could sit next to each other on the bed. His fit lasted a few moments longer until, winded, he rested his head on his knees in defeat.

“Master?” Anakin asked hesitantly. Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to respond. He was so tired.

“Obi-Wan?” His voice was softer and his hand was still a comforting weight on his back.

Obi-Wan lifted his head, unable to look at his companion. Instead, he stared intently at a crack in the wall in front of him.

“Have you ever heard of Hanahaki disease, Anakin?” He rasped, throat still raw.

“Yes, Master,” he replied instinctively.

“Well,” Obi-Wan looked down at his hands, twisting them in his lap uncomfortably, “I have it.”

Despite the situation, Anakin huffed a bitter laugh at his statement of the obvious. In the ensuing beats of silence he gathered his courage to leave Anakin’s embrace and make a tactile retreat, regardless of the fact that it was his own room he would be retreating from. Before he got there, Anakin spoke.

“Paloverde,” his voice was as soft as Obi-Wan had ever heard it. Although he doubted the other man realized, his presence in the force was reaching out to him, as if it too wanted to embrace him, “is the name of the plant. They were rare on Tatooine, the climate was a touch too barren for them. They could survive, though, under proper care. No one much cared to contribute the time and energy to care…. so they were few and far between.”

Obi-Wan nodded, not seeing his point but soothed by his voice nonetheless.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin said just as gently, but with a more forceful undercurrent, and this moment became another time that his full attention rested on him. He tried not to bask in the occurrence too obviously and finally lifted his head to look Anakin in the eyes.

“Tatooine flowers are growing in your lungs,” he whispered and the hand on his back moved to his shoulder, squeezing gently, “Obi-Wan, is it me?”

This, more than anything, Obi-Wan didn’t want. Anakin was the last person he wanted to know of his feelings. He knew the man cared for him, and he also knew that being the cause of Obi-Wan’s death would destroy him. There was no reason for him to feel guilty, he couldn’t help that his feelings for his old master had remained appropriately platonic. But Anakin was never the reasonable one, and Obi-Wan would rather he hate him for keeping his condition secret and accepting his death than ever feel that kind of guilt.

Even so, he would not lie to him. Anakin deserved that much.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, unwilling to see the pain and disappointment on Anakin’s face.

“Yes,” he whispered back, unable to raise his voice louder.

The hand on his shoulder moved to cup his jaw. He couldn’t help but lean into the touch. His movement startled a noise out of Anakin and he immediately shied away, feeling pinpricks of pain blossom in his chest in anticipation of the coming rejection.

“No, no, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s other hand rested on Obi-Wan’s cheek, effectively cradling his head in his hands and stalling his movement, “please look at me.”

 Obi-Wan couldn’t deny him such a simple request. He opened his eyes.

There was a small smile on his face, as if he was trying to project serenity to calm Obi-Wan, but he easily saw through his attempt. His force presence was twisting around him, overwhelmed with emotion. Obi-Wan opened himself more to his surroundings, fearful of what he would find but needing to understand nonetheless.

The man in front of him was _luminescent_ with happiness. Where Anakin was at other times suspicious, frustrated, or outright angry, was now smoothed into a radiant, surprised joy.  

Obi-Wan blinked slowly, confused. “I don’t under – “

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” his voice was cautious, but with an underlying conviction that he always seemed to carry, “I’m in love with you.”

His eyes widened, flinching away. Anakin, expecting the reaction, kept him firmly in his grasp.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he whispered into the short distance between them, “I love you.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, only surged forward and pressed a kiss onto Anakin’s lips.

For two men so comfortable in the throes of battle, their first kiss was anything but violent. Obi-Wan, still hesitant and unsure of himself, kept the kiss light in case Anakin wanted to pull away. Anakin, still in awe of the man before him and afraid of scaring him away, pulled him into a gentle embrace, metal hand clutching his robes and flesh hand on his cheek, guiding him closer. They wrapped around each other in the force as well, happiness overwhelming in the feedback loop it created.

Anakin broke the kiss, only to rest their foreheads together. His eyes were still closed, and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to appreciate the growing flush spreading across his cheekbones.

“I love you, too, if you couldn’t tell,” he tried to sound casual, but it came off more breathless than he intended.

Anakin laughed, delighted, and surged forward into another kiss. They would talk, needed to talk about what this meant for them, _soon_ , but for now Obi-Wan breathed freely for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> [obi-wan's flower](https://www.desertusa.com/flora/palo-verde-tree.html)
> 
> EDIT: then palpatine gets hanahaki because he's in unrequited love with Unlimited Power and dies like a chump in his office and everyone is happy bye


End file.
